


Fangs

by Cutesonas



Category: Daredevil (TV), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Ultimateverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 12,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23562352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cutesonas/pseuds/Cutesonas
Summary: Matt gets bit by a wolf after a botched mission with Bucky and Clint. He saved a little boy but now his anger is more impossible to fight and control than ever. Turning him into a real animal. And the only people who know are of course, team red. Who offer to help keep his emotional issues a secret for other people in Matt's life.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Matt Murdock, James "Bucky" Barnes & Clint Barton & Matt Murdock, Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Matt Murdock & Karen Page, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker & Wade Wilson, Miles Morales & Matt Murdock, Miles Morales & Matt Murdock & Wade Wilson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: Team Red Mini Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

“I don't remember today being a full moon” Peter's voice wobbled, hiding behind Wade for protection. "Shouldn't he be, oh you know, human?"

“That isn't how it works.” the mercenary corrected. Stepping back from the booming barking from the wolf, in attempts to somehow soothe the wolf’s nerves. 

“Then how the hell does it work, genius?”

“Hell if I know!”

"Wait, you don't know?” Miles pipes up, from behind his mentor.

“No, I don't know. Do I look like Doctor Strange?”


	2. Rewind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arrows, chinese food and a botched arms deal

However the explanation lives within the past. Three days back to be exact. Believe it or not, the wolf is actually the devil of hell's kitchen. Or is the hellhound a better title now? Eh, whatever, doesn’t matter. Anyhow let’s start the tale from the beginning. From even before the lawyer started howling at moons. Because it all began with a bang. A big bang.

Well, mostly because of the explosion. Accidentally caused via Hawkeye. His bad, he admits, but nonetheless what was supposed to be a successful set up of catching a dirty arms dealer went south, because of course it did. I mean, Clint fucking Barton accidentally brought the 

wrong arrows to the damn thing. It was a mess from the beginning.

But neither did the demon, hawks nor the one hundred year old man think it would get any worse than that. Could it get any worse than that? Apparently yes, a lot much worse.

“So,” Bucky began, snuffing out his cigarette sharply on the parapet. It crackled a little to the deaf one, and a lot to the blind one. “Because clint screwed the fuckin’ pooch-”

“Oh my god,” said the pooch screwer, his hand running down his face. “I said I’m sorry.”

“And I said I forgive you. Just-”  
“Not right now. Yeah, I know.”

Matthew cleared his throat, cutting off the head of the growing lovers quarrel unfolding in front of him. “You were saying?”

Bucky froze, almost losing what his initial intention was but finally caught it once again. “Right, so obviously they’re gonna reroute future arm deals.”  
“Your point?” Matt crossed his arms, trying to ignore the remaining smell of nicotine still in the air. 

“You’re the one who got us this date. You think you could try again with your informant?”

Daredevil made a pained expression, “...Sure”  
Clint squinted at the devil, not catching on. “Something wrong, Dee?”

“Nothing, it’s just that my informant can be…” he exhaled, stalling. Thinking about how much of a hassle it was gonna be to ask Wade again for another date. “A handful. But yeah, we can rain check.”

“Great.” the old man adds. “Then that’s settled, right Clint?”

“Huh? Sorry I was thinking about chinese food.”


	3. Teeth Marks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smell of blood

After a few goodbyes and promises to remain in touch, the three split. Daredevil leaves via fire escape into an alley. Concluding that he’ll soon clock out and clock back into his shoes as the lawyer and friend, Matthew Murdock. And he was so close too, yet a good Samaritans work is never, ever finished. 

The aroma of iron, of that nauseating metallic fluid never failed to get his head to turn. And this time, the hound’s head whipped around to the odd clawing and squeaking in a nearby alley. His legs promptly follow danger as one does. With every inch close, with each step and tip toe, did the scent amplify. The gnashing and grunts and cracking of bones even, enlarged. To the point where it was practically torturous. Making his ear drums cry out in agony.

And there he was, in the middle of a literal butcher scene. Even in the face of teeth lunching on a young boy's leg, a bit of Daredevil was waiting for that gotcha moment that would never come. Because one thing about this didn’t make sense. One Thing that made the poor boy being feasted on irregularly was the fact that wolves don’t usually roam around the streets of New York, not to mention the demons' own home turf for once. 

The animal snorts, her head whipping to the intruder. Finally giving the poor boy who was barely clinging to life a break, letting him breathe, even for just a moment. Her hind legs charge up for a battle as she strides towards him. Her red tinted drool leaving a path behind her, she licks her lips, already imagining how great two meals in one day would be. In Spite of her attention focusing on the devil with carnivorous intent, she shifted back to the boy who was taking advantage of the freedom. Probably planning how he was gonna high tail it to the nearest emergency room. 

So, in desperation, Matthew kicks the murderous animal in the snout as he lands a round off to get closer to the victim. Angered, the mutt runs headfirst with every intent to cause harm to him, and in lucky timing and a perfect attempt at an aerial cartwheel to get the creature to turn their body, was the bloody boy finally able to escape death. Meanwhile, Daredevil was about to face death in the face. For like, the fifth time this week. No biggie. Just a wolf. That possibly has diseases and fleas, seeing at how she was struggling to breathe, and her the smell of her breath suggested poor hygiene and eating habits all together. So she definitely wasn't from the Zoo in Queens, maybe she’s from the one in the Bronx? Would make sense as to why she is desperate to eat. But didn’t explain the little to no news coverage about such a thing. 

Per contra though, the wolf proceeded to lunge at him, but the jumping monkey ran out of quick saves. His foot now caught into the mouth of a rabid animal, interrupting his back flip, his back hitting and head hitting the pavement with a loud thud. The wound from his foot was odd, it wasn’t usual pain, it was like it stung. Like a bug bite. Throbbing like there was no tomorrow as she began to munch on the rest of him, as he was paralyzed due to whatever illness the creature carried. He couldn’t even move his mouth to cry for help pathetically. This was it. This was the end of both human Matt Murdock, and demon Daredevil. Kinda anticlimactic. He was expecting a gunshot-

Well speak of the Wade. “Jesus Christ, Red!” he cried out, throwing his gun to the side, the two arachnids following steadily behind.   
“Pete, pass me the kit I told you to hold earlier.” Wade commanded, “Miles, check his pulse.” 

Finally, after an hour of tending to wounds, stuffing him with painkillers and bickering over the choice of even donating blood, but giving up as the three realized how complicated that would be despite Wades past military knowledge. The devil finally was able to breathe, to speak, to explain the botched mission that feels like years ago, the rain check and finally the mauled boy he was fortuitous to save just in time.

“You should take it easy, tomorrow, Matt.” Peter softly suggested, helping his friend back onto his feet and walking. 

“Yeah.” Matt hazily agreed, ignoring the full and heavy sensation within his head.   
The three looked at him with concern, “Do you think the bite is anything serious?” the young spider whispered to his exponentially taller counterpart.

As the man dragged his weak body home, he could hear Peter answer with uncertainty in his voice. “No, he’ll be fine.”


	4. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arguments, hair, and sweat.

The alarm buzzed, and instantly was hushed by Matt’s palm. And let him tell you, he is feeling anything but fine. In fact, fine wasn’t even on the horizon. Not even on his google maps. It was nowhere near the amount of ache and discomfort he felt all over his body. So after a half an hour of mauling over, fighting over the very valid and reasonable need to cancel, and then another half of an hour weakly attempting to get his ass through the door. He finally called Foggy.

“Foggy residence, who is speaking?”

“Murdock.” he groaned, despite his partner fully aware of who dialed him.

“Why, mister Murdock. Your appointment is not until later today!”

“Fogs,” Matthew sighs. “Can we play this game later?”  
“Aw, you’re no fun.”  
“Yeah, sorry. I’m just taking a sick day is all.”

Then there was a great and high pause. Followed by a painful sigh on the opposing end, feeling like the old metaphorical knife of his was being twisted more and more in his chest. His foot tapping, vigorously waiting for a response.

“What the hell happened last night?”

“Nothing happened.” his tone sharpening.  
“Matt, you can tell me-”  
“Did you not just hear me?” Matthew fumed. “Nothing happened.” throwing up his free arm, teeth beginning to grit. “Why is it whenever I take a sick day you are up in arms?”  
“You know why, don’t play dumb, Matt.”  
“I can handle myself!” his raised tone making his friend expand the space between his ear and the phone. 

“I know, Matt. I’m just wor-” click. He tossed his phone on his bed, and then himself. Pressing ignore on the three follow up calls via Foggy. And finally falling back to sleep. But of course, with Matthews luck. It wasn’t what he’d call resting either. Because his dream was anything but pleasant. Per usual but…This was different. This made the fearless devil blood run cold and frigid. 

Running. No, chasing. Desperate chasing. The strong smell of rain. Police sirens. Ambulance en route. Matthew instantly knew what this was. Planting his feet into the concrete, almost dropping his walking stick. And for a moment he pondered, but turned back. Not exactly in a reliving trauma mood. And instead wondered the old streets, feeling the familiar walls around him. The diner he went to with Dad, the park he used to frequent as well. All still surprisingly intact in defiance with the years. And for a small second, he would argue it was pleasant. Smiling wide with every large and excited. There was the fire hydrant the older kids would break into every summer. And the library that was torn down when he entered college. Not to mention the corner store ice cream shop. The one his Dad would argue made the best ice cream in all of New York. It was all still there. But something was odd about this night.

There were never any wolves in Hells kitchen back then. So why were there three of them here now? And why did they smell so familiar? The first was large, but sickly, reeked of gunpowder, hint of cinnamon and raw cookie dough. Wade. The middle one had a hurrying heartbeat, along with a strong scent of hamburgers and ink. Peter. The last he already guessed was Miles. Small, smelling of flour and spray paint. Their mouths drooling, feet slowly gaining speed towards him. Growling, but to him it was like a metronome. Waiting for their exact beat in which they strike.

One…

Two…

Three…

The devil rises, drenched in sweat and possibly tears. His sheets balled up on the ground, but an absurd amount of his own body hair surrounds his spot on the bed, as if shedding like a dog. Leaving him practically naked and vulnerable alone on his mattress. His eyes are still red in coloration due to last night's fit. “Jesus christ.” he heaved, struggling to widen the amount of air intake he was receiving and failing a little. Before he could fully calm his pounding heart, his phone buzzed once more. From under the bed. From the name it was repeating over and over, Matt didn’t have to guess. Instead he knew, it was-


	5. Playing Detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anime, teenage girls and late night conversations

“Peter.”

“Hey man,” his voice sounded rather dim. “You uh, think you’re still gonna make it to the office party at the daily bugle?”

“I don’t remember there being an office party.” an eyebrow raises. “When is it?”

There was nervous chuckling on the other line. “Really? I thought I told you.”  
“Peter.” Matthews hands grip at the only bedsheet still left on the bed. “When is it.” 

“Right! Right, it's in uh, three days….?” he croaked, sinking his head into his torso like a frightened turtle. 

“So you tell me three days in advance.” 

“Uh, yeah…?”

“And expect me,” he sighs, muttering something under his breath, making the boy sweat profusely. “To just come?”

“Well, yeah. I mean...we have been friends for a while now.” his voice low and timid. “It’s to celebrate my hundredth photo-”

“Jesus christ.” Matt spits. “Could you speak any more softly, Pete?”

“I’m...sorry?”

“And all this fuss over a fucking photos?” his eyes narrowing as if the boy was right in front of him. “Are you serious?”

And a hush fell over the boy. “So are you coming…?”

“Oh sure, let me just reschedule everything in my life so it conveniences you, Peter.” Matthew snidely adds, before taking a moment to breathe. Realizing his heart is even now pumping a little too quickly. What has gotten into you, Matthew? “‘M sorry, kid.”

“...It’s fine.”

“Yeah.” the lawyer takes another breath of air. “I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

“Alright, thanks. But I also wanted to-” Click.

All the way in westchester Salem lane, Peter turned around, eyes distressed. Facing the large mercenary and little kid in black, along with Wade’s pseudo little sister, Negasonic. “He uh, hung up.”

The three glared at Wade, who was eerily clammed up and hush. 

Finally, after a block of just, uninterrupted silence, his pseudo little sister opened her mouth. “You oka-”

“Of fuckin’ course not.”

“Yeah.” she popped her gum, beginning to text various other x-men. “I figured.”  
The man began to groan loudly, putting his hands to his face and sitting himself down on the edge of the tub, thank god the x-men bathroom door was locked, otherwise this would be more awkward than it already is.

The thing about the marvel universe was that it’s primarily sci-fi. Wade knew that, he feels like he has known that his entire damn life. And for most of said damn life, it was as if magic was a thing for street performers and kids birthday parties. I mean come fucking on, aliens invading New York? That shit was said and done in 2012. Alien gods getting it on with girls named Jane foster? Marvel’s got it. Man in a suit that costs more than the entire fucking united states? You know that’s Marvel, babe! 

But alchemy? Magic? Spell books? Curses, potions? Fairies? Other storybook creatures? What the hell do you think this is, Percy fucking Jackson? So of course, when little ol’ Double D gets his ass bit, you don’t jump to some batshit conclusion. You rationalize. You downplay it. Must’ve been a rabid dog or some shit, but that obviously gets thrown outta the reasoning window. 

So you assume maybe it’s some shapeshifter. That’s what Peter suggested at least. Like doctor connors maybe? Or like Norman Osborn. But none would explain the paralyzation. So Peter and Wade dug a little deeper, suggesting maybe the dog itself was radioactive. But after a background check with Miss Jones, that was disproved, as no wolves related testing like that has happened in New York since the late eighties. Said doctors are still in the slammer. So once again, you dig deeper, because yes, Matt can be a stubborn ass. He can be an emotionally stunted catholic whore but you all love him. 

This was not excluding Miles. Still young, naive, and unlike the two adults who have grown out of fairytales, Harry Potter, Percy Jackson or whatever fantasy related animes the kid watches every week. So rationalizing to him was a bit more abstract. A bit more...out of the sci-fi world. Suggesting all types of mythological curses, creatures and whatever else of the sort. Leprechauns, vampires, silkies, sirens, changelings. All bullshit but low and behold the genius idea that popped into that little kids head.

“Werewolf?”

“Holy shit.” Peter deadpanned, covering his mouth in shock. “Wade it was right the fuck there the whole time.” the photographer breaths sharply, in the dead of night, sitting upright in his bed.

“Holy shit!” The mercenary yelled on the other end.

So the three had a lead. Using the rest of the day asking around. Though this universe is Marvel, not J.K Rowling's land of witchcraft and transphobia. There is no magic user on hand, nonetheless ones that like the crimson team. Not to mention one’s that want to help a smarmy demon like Daredevil. So while lamenting in his own self pity, realizing a lot of people hated him than he first originally thought, Wade heard the words that would save his buddy Matt right in the X-Mansion.

“Hey, dick for brains, that yogurts mine. I wrote my name on it.” Ah Negasonic, oh little, feisty, ball busting Negasonic. 

“Just the lesbian I wanna see!” Wilson cooed, handing her said yogurt. And without warning or any transitional words, he blurted the question. “You know anything about werewolves?”

Promptly, the teenager froze, almost out of the kitchen's doorway. “Maybe.” she turned to him on her heel, eyes narrowing. “Why?”


	6. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three strikes.

So now you’re caught up on why the hell Wade is about to sob in a bathroom with his two favorite buds and his pseudo little sister! Thank good ol’ wilson for that when you can.

“You know,” the adolescent girl chimes in, “I think I’m finally getting why Strange or Wanda refused to help you guys out.” her lips crease upright, snarkily. “He’s a douchebag.”

Wade then let out a fake and dramatic sob, “So?” he hiccuped. “He’s our douchebag, have some respect.”

“Same difference.” she turns off her phone, sticking it into her leather jacket pocket. 

“But- does that sound like someone who's a werewolf? I know it wasn’t a long call, but-”  
“Oh, trust me, that was enough.” she interrupts eyes looking reminiscent. “Trust me, when I was still experimenting I had a werewolf boyfriend, who was a dick by the way.” She makes sure it is clear. “But he acted the same way your douchebag friend does. Along with the other info dick for brains gave me, it’s safe to say he’s-”

“Don’t say it!” Wade cried out. Covering his ears. Negasonic sighed. “Thank you.”

“God you are annoying.”  
“But you’re still helpin’!”

The black lipstick wearing girl rolled her eyes, checking her watch. “For the next ten minutes, yeah. I got a date at six.”  
“So,” Peter stuttered, “is there anything, we can do? To help?”  
She hummed, retracing her memories and studies. “No that’s about it.”  
The three sighed in relief. “Just usual werewolf and movie shit.” but then her eyes squinted at the ceiling, “Well-” she popped her gum again. “Nevermind.”

The three hearts drop. 

“Wh-what do you mean nevermind?” the college student exasperated, crossing his arms. “If there is something else, please tell us?”

“It’s nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing. It was everything. It was imperative. It was a method of survival of the fittest. A process, in broad terms. One that can be easily avoided with precision, balance and a good therapist or two.   
“Basically it’s like anger management, but you could be a wolf for like, ever.” she explained, tapping her foot, losing time. “Happened to my ex after I broke up with him.”

Said function due to survival of the fittest consistented in a set of wishes, turns, whatever you want to call it. To ensure the werewolf can handle being both animals simultaneously, to find the harmony between actions and nature. 

“He’s got three turns.”

“Of...what?” the youngest dared to utter. 

Three chances of getting a taste of being a wolf without the moon’s aid. To choose for himself whether the moment calls for his character or his fangs. Three detrimental actions that will differ his appearance for life. Three marks that will change everything. 

“To turn into a wolf, willingly.” 

“What happens after the third turn?”

“After?” she says, looking for a way to put this on them gently. “Well after that it's no longer your douchebag.” disabling her alarm for the ten o’clock mark, she continues. “It’s just another mutt.” she unlocks the door, ready to head out-

“Wait,” Peter interrupted. “What about the other turns?”

For an eternity she was silent. “Always check the size of his tail.” The ruckus of mutant kids and adults alike leak into the blue bathroom. “It’ll be small.” she utters, stepping out, now peering in like an outsider to the three. “But it’ll grow if he doesn’t anger manages.” and the only thing left of her was her combat boots stepping down the stairs, not saying excuse me to the other x children walking up and down them with her.


	7. New Appendage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> times square, blood and wagging

The next morning hit the lawyer like a freight train, quite literally as Matthew was awoken by the C train on its way to Times Square. Grumbling as Murdock was well aware of the fact it was ass o’clock and sure as hell had a few more hours to kill before he needed to clock in. Anyhow, it was hopeless, tossing and turning on his bed did nothing to rock him back to sleep, nor did adding or decreasing the amount of pillows either. The aching in his mouth was too intense, too irritating for him to just just ignore.

Sighing, he dragged himself to his bathroom, analyzing his mouth. Gently feeling each and every tooth with his tongue. Odd. They weren’t always this sharp, were they? It would explain the sudden ache. He took it one step further though, grazing his updated row of teeth with his pointer finger, in case he was overthinking this. After all, he wasn’t really awake, not really. 

“Fuck!” He barked, accidentally pricking his pointer finger. The strong smell of iron now filling the entire apartment. Usually the aroma made the man grimace in disgust. But maybe he was overreacting. It wasn’t that bad of a scent. Reminded him of steak and chicken. Oh, he would kill for some steak as of now. 

Wait, Foggy's family owned a butchers shop. 

He could go and get some steak with Foggy after work, that would be nice. That would-

The man jumped at the scuffling sound, coming from behind him. But…”nothing there?” 

Come on murdock, get your shit together. He then recalled his finger, that was still trickling with blood. Stepping out of the bathroom and heading towards the cabinets. Pulling them open to find his aids bin that Claire gifted him last July. 

His mind then returned to the thought of a lunch filled with foggy and meats. A medium rare one with him sounded like heaven, along with-

The scuffling sound returned, causing the man to turn around so quickly that he dropped the box of hello kitty bandages Miles gifted him.

“Shit.” He sucked his teeth, picking them up from the ground, and finally unwrapping one and applying it gently to his finger. And once more, his ears catching wind of whatever was making the noise that seemed to be coming from-

His own boxers.

But not from inside, no. From whatever it was attached to him, shaking aggressively from side to side above his boxers. Making said noise.

So instinctively, he timed it, then grabbed it. And once again jumping at the texture it was. 

It was soft, and tiny. Like a-

“Dogs tail.” He gasped, grabbing it once more. 

He carefully examined it once more, beginning to realize that the wolf was more than what she gave off that fateful night. 

Before he could grab the nearby scissors to cut off the nuisance himself, his phone rang. Singing his best friend's name. Causing the miniature tail to wag in reaction. Making the man's face turn crimson in color. Suffering from embarrassment as the wagging grew more aggressive with each step closer to the phone, even with his attempts to hold it still with his less dominant hand. 

“Foggy.” He stuttered, hoping he didn’t sound too excited. Still gripping his tail to get it to sit still. “Why are you- Up so early?”

“It’s not that early Matt, I’m just checking in.” his tone obviously sounding unamused and flat. However his tiny tail wagged like there was no tomorrow, cursing at it under his breath to get it to stop. 

“Oh.” Matt whined, letting go of his tail. Scratching his hair, was his...was his hair softer too? He let out an audible groan.   
“I’m guessing that you need another day?”

“What? No, No.” he begs, despite his best friend being absolutely right. “I’m fine, and listen I’m...sorry for exploding on you yesterday.” He opens the door to his closet, pulling off a pair of pants and button up. Holding up the slacks up to his face, frowning at it. Was he gonna be able to hide his...new development from Foggy and Karen? Maybe what he needs is a belt. That’d at least slow down the constant wagging.  
“Aw.” Foggy cooed, as the other on the other line pulled up the pants up to his hips. “Did Miles teach you how to apologize?” 

“No.” he answers, zipping up his pants ever so noiselessly as humanly possible. “Can I not apologize, Fogs?” His eyebrows lowered. “Is it crime to feel bad, Foggy?”  
“Oh come on, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, Nelson?” His adrenaline kicked in. What-what-what is so funny about me apologizing?” his jaw growing tight.“ Because clearly, I don’t see the punchline.”

Foggy unlocked the door to their office, clearing his throat. “Matt-”  
“No please.” Matt's voice raised, making the other man on the phone flinch in reaction. His tail was widening in growth, without notice by the owner of said tail. “Humor me. You’re the comedian here.” even the gripping on the tail he was trying to get ahold of was now making his knuckles white, and sharp as if they were no longer human hands.

“Matthew.” Foggys adams apple bopped once more. “I was just joking. Look, you seem upset- you should probably take today off too.” 

Matthew's miniature tail fell, his knuckles going back to its original color. His eyebrows lifted. Teeth accelerating their ache as they shifted and changed more. What are you doing, Matthew? His heart squeezed, backing away. “Foggy wait-”

“I don’t want to talk right now.”  
The lawyer on the other end began to sweat, as if it was raining indoors. “I’m sorr-”   
“Look, I don’t want to talk to you right now, okay? You obviously are not in the right frame of mind.” Click.


	8. Dread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bones, cooing, and Karen Page

Instantly, the man dropped to the floor, trembling as he attempted to pick himself up. You fucked up. Struggling to button up his shirt. His skin burning red as hundreds of hair all around him grew. You messed up. Barely even brushing his hair. You hurt your best friend.Then his bones, popping and cracking into other places. His chest growing tight and lungs failing to do it’s single fucking job. Are you satisfied? Are you happy? Matthew began to gasp for air, feeling as God was strangling him as punishment for such a thing. For such a terrible deed. You are supposed to respect people, why couldn’t you even do that? You’re sinful. You deserve that tail of yours. Monster. You are a monster, Murdock. His head was beginning to feel light. Clutching his knees, trying to steady his pacing pulse. And finally, the cherry on top to his transformation, his skull modeling into its appropriate shape. 

Had it not been for the fact that the teeth in his mouth had an odd texture or the fact that his tail was long enough to touch the ground despite standing on all fours, Matt wouldn’t have noticed. As not even an entire five minutes later was there suddenly a raucous amount of stomping coming from down a couple of floors. Good for him it only took a single whiff for him to figure out it was his three imbeciles. Nothing to worry about. Wait, that is an extremely imperative thing to worry about. Shit. Shit, did he lock the door? Could still unlock it in this form? Wait, how can he get out of this form? Why is he in this form? 

“Matt? Matt are you in there? We know work starts in a few for you but we’ll make this quick.” Wade knocks softly, using his somber and caring father voice. Causing Matthew to whine, backing up, unsure how to access the situation at hand.

“Matt, come on, Whatever noise you just made, we all heard it.” Peter pipes in, leaning in closer to the door. 

“It’s important! We promise!” Miles hummed. Turning the knob which surprisingly, is unlocked. Revealing the sole reason why there was no response on the other side. “Oh.” the boy exclaimed, looking down at the large wolf in front of them. “Are we...too late?”

The others stepped in slowly, causing the animal to bark and growl in intimidation., how exactly was he supposed to explain this to them? 

So, now you’re really all caught up now. Congrats! Too bad you still got a lot of words ahead of you to read.

Wade inspected even closer, inching towards his friend who backed himself into a corner. “Look.” he whispered, his reflection in the dog's red eyes growing in mass as he got closer. Making a whimper from Matt escape from him without a choice. “That’s still our asshole” The mercenary then kneels as if in the presence of royalty, “And I’ll be damned if we leave him like that just because we’re scared.” slowly inches his hand towards Murdock. Though hesitating at the subtle growls escaping the teeth from his long known companion. His tail even, stiff, a hair off the floor, as if important. Like a message he was desperately trying to communicate.   
“Be careful!” Miles peeped, hiding behind Peter. “He can spread it to you.

Wade didn’t even flinch, inching even closer despite his friends teeth growing in size.

“We know what happened.” he sang. His ears uncurling, as if to ask how in curiosity. “We just want to help you.” Wade hand now gently grazing the back of his ear. “Can you let us do that?” And it seemed as though the answer was yes, as he yawned when the soft grazing became scratches. Making his once stiff position melt before them.

Wow. That was easier to calm him down than any of them were expecting. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Chuckling as the other two wearily tip toed closer, oohing and awing at how soft his coat was. 

“You know,” Peter starts, staring longingly at the mutt who he swears was so relaxed he was ready to turn back human and head back to bed. “Maybe we were overreacting.”

“Yeah.” Wade cooed. “He’s still got what, three, four more turns?”

“Thr-”

Although throughout all the pets, aws, coos, ‘whos a good boy's’ someone was on a quest. Inching closer and closer to her coworkers apartment. So while Matthew laid on his back, getting belly rubs galore, there was someone up the steps. And while they tried to teach him breathing exercises there was someone down the hall. And finally, as the wolf's pounding heartbeat was just about to slow, there was someone pounding at his door. Returning him back to familiar panic mode.

“Matt? Open the door.” a voice commanded that everyone recognized. Well, except Miles. “I know you’re in there, and I know you heard me coming.” It was Karen Page.

“Shit.” Peter whispered. Gesturing to the two and wolf to scram. Nevertheless with the low whispering of the two to get Matthew back into his room, was not enough. 

“Matt, What the hell.” pounding on the door some more. “I know you’re in there, I can see you moving from under the door.”

Her truthful statement making their laxness from before disappear completely without another trace. Laxness turning into a frenzy, of arguing. Of barking and growling. And finally desperation. As Wade tugged him by the scruff unannounced but what he saw as right in the moment. Leading in teeth, into canines, into fangs inserting themselves into Wades glove. Resulting in a shriek of pain from the man. Falling to the floor in anger, “Asshole!” he sits, pointing at the dog with his good hand, as if he could see his method of scolding. Which apparently he could, leading into a mangled right hand. As more screaming commenced from the frightened teen and the man child on the floor.

“What the hell is going on in there?”

“NOTHING!” Miles blurted out, above wilsons arguing and cursing at a literal dog. 

“You little dick, you little shit, you bit me, twice. After the moment we just had? Do you have any idea how I feel? Do you even care about how the readers feel reading this? I am embarrassed. Now they’re gonna think I don’t even have dignity! God, how could you do thi- OW.” 

“Wade? is- is that you?”

Wade groaned, dramatically weeping on the ground. “Unfortunately.”

Karen rolled her eyes, sighing deeply, “Idiots.” she muttered to herself, before pulling out a hairpin and going to work. And in the mist of more yelling and possibly some sobbing, the door swung open.

“What the hell is going on here?”

And just like that, the three boys and dog freeze in place. As still as a polaroid photo. The only thing still in motion was the blood from Wade that was leaking and also splattered on the dogs coat began to drip, dirtying his paws. Peter the one actually closest to the door, and Miles behind him. Still in camo mode, speechless and intimidated by the woman's expression. 

“Is that...a wolf eating Wade?”

Peter stammered, putting his hands on her shoulders as he pushed her back gently. “Kare, I know whatever you have to say to Matt is super important, but you need to leave. Now.” and for a moment, the agast woman was too dumbfounded to protest the hands slowly pushing her out of the apartment. But she snaps back, screaming as the invisible boy finally snaps back into visible sight. Prompting the woman to throw her lip gloss at him due to instinct.

“Oh my god! Peter- peter-! You see him, right? You-”

Peter plasters his hand on her mouth, looking around the hall if anyone heard her valid noises of terror. “His name is Miles, he’s fourteen, he’s harmless. You need to leave, Now.” 

But alas, the poor college student could not catch a break. As she shrieked into his hand once more at the transformation occurring behind him. The sound of bones popping and hair seeping back into skin was enough for him to also turn around. The wolf from earlier becoming the lawyer the rest recognized so well. On the other hand his mouth was still strained with crimson liquid, dripping down his chin and staining his white work shirt. His teeth are razor keen and salient. Hair more voluminous, ears brown, pointy and furry, finally, his tail stretching down to the back of his knee. 

“Karen” Matthew finally mustered out to say. “I’m-” 

The journalist ripped the hand once on her, departing from the grip on her shoulders. Sprinting towards her friend. Only to...slow her steps. Breathing tediously. Eyes ever so soft and gentle. Her hand inching closer to his cheek. Before casping his face. Giving him a moment of relief. And finally-

THWACK! 

Her small, dainty hand mark showing up red on his cheek. 

The moment still, even the man on the floor stayed quiet as a mouth. 

“Okay,” Matthew whispered. “I probably deserve that.”

Her head lifts towards the ceiling, an irritated grin spreading across her face, followed by low pitched chuckles. “Probably? Really?”

“Look, I can explain-”

“Oh, please do.’

Matthews lips pinched together at that. “I’m not in the mood for this-”

“Oh you’re not in the mood for this? Matt, you-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> creds to Ajax( @GremlinMan ) for being my partner on this! he was a delight!!
> 
> https://gremlin-man-bastard-child.tumblr.com/post/614943936737378304/art-for-mlmmoraless-fic-fangs-for-the-team-red


	9. No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No

Peter's eyelids drooped, already telling that he didn't need his two cents put in. But you know what did? Wade fucking Wilson who was still on the ground, eerily quiet. So with some aid with his mentee in training who grabbed his legs as he took the head, and careful avoidance of the growing tension from the two. Deadpool was successfully dragged into the bedroom. Closing the door behind them. Generating a moment of silence between the wolf man and Karen. And then back to useless quarrel about how somehow making Foggy upset is related to his irregular and rather ludicrous appearance. Only for her to read him to filth. As if Santa gave her the list as to why exactly he never once got anything more than coal for Christmas. 

Thankfully, the door was enough to turn the wrestling match outside the door sound like far away birds squabbling over a single Wendy’s fry. Making Peters call to Negasonic less chaotic considering the fact that she was so adamant that his mutant genetics would save him once again. 

“No, you don’t understand-” he commanded. 

Followed by muffled lecturing on the other end. 

“I know he can’t die, that isn’t what I’m fuckin’ worried about, what I’m worried about is-”

More faint babbling interrupted him once more.   
“Three times, or five.” he then shook his head, “No wait, it was more than that, I was just busy because-”

“Yes, I know what you told us. But-”

Aaand yeah, tuning that out now. Miles head shifting to the wheezing man on the floor. His eyes drifting off only to blink back to focus. Grabbing ahold to the thread of consciousness with all his might. His focus seemed to be on nothing but just that. Even if his eye direction was on the kid, it definitely was glaring at something beyond that. Even his inhales and exhales were so...dim and dull. Like an elderly man who ran a marathon. 

“Okay, thanks. Bye.” the older arachnid shoves his phone back into his pocket, before sitting beside the other two. “She said he’ll most likely be okay.”

“Most likely?”

“Yeah, most likely.” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “His healing factor is much more powerful than ours, you know that, right kid?”

Miles nodded sweetly, inhaling stiffly. “But bullets are different from wolf bites, Peter.”

His mentor rubbed his shoulder, staring at the man. “I know.” he exhales sharply. “But he’ll be okay, one way or another. I promise.”

And finally, there was quiet. But not the nice kind of silent. Not the type you go to sleep to. Not the soft one. Not the airplane in the middle of the night silent. It’s the incredibly still type. The type when an expensive vase. The type that itches the back of your neck when your teacher is speaking to you specifically after class. The type during a test when the answer to a question is nowhere to be found.   
“Fine” Matthew seethes.   
“FINE.” Karen’s hair puffs up with her, and leaves as quickly as she does. The door slamming thunderously, causing the three to flinch. Resulting in two arachnids creeping out of the bedroom all hushed and nonvocal. Expecting the creature to be standing exactly where they last saw him. Only to be welcomed by the dried blood puddle on the floor.   
“How did he leave so- AHJESUSCHRIST.” the smaller boy squeaked, realizing he was behind them the entire time, cleaning supplies in hand. Blood now just faded into his shirt. And they subconsciously give him the floor, beginning to scrub as if everything that had just happened was routine protocol. While Miles gave him a raised eyebrow and gesture of confusion to Peter, he instead waited patiently. 

“Let him do this.” he reassured, pulling a stiff hand on the kid. “It helps him. I don’t know how or why but trust me, a man needs to clean.”

He then began to hum a song neither could recognize. Until he was so invested in the bleach and scrubbing out every little spec that he was mumbling the broken spanish lyrics by the time he was almost complete. His living space now smells of lemon and various other chemicals. grabbing a nearby towel to dry the floor finally after what seemed like an eternity to the young teen. And yet, he was still mumbling that damn song. Morales swore he must’ve heard it somewhere.

And then it hit him. “Is that….Celia Cruz?”

The dog tail wagged at the name. “Mhm.” He then leaves the two alone for a minute, placing his materials back where he found them. “Heard it in a deli the other day. Been stuck in my head since.”

While being the one who originally asked his eyes narrowed at him. Completely unaware as to how he was so nonchalant about what happened. “You...bit Wade.” he blurted out, without warning. “More than once.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Matthew did not respond right away. “I can’t answer that.”

Peter then chimed in. “Its okay matt-”

“No,” he interrupts, his ears moving stiffly with his emotional state. “It isn’t. But I’ll fix it.”

“You don't have to do it alone, matt.” Peter begged. “Look, we learned a bit since the other night and we wanna help-”

“No.” he stiffly abjurns. “I’m sorry, but no. I won’t let you guys do that.”

“Matt-”   
“Peter, I am a grown man. I can handle this. I have already done enough.”

Miles whimpered. “Matt, please.”

“I said no. now you either respect that decision or you don’t.”

And then a door opened. “I sure as hell don’t.” wade groaned, before collapsing on the floor once more. 

“See?” Matthew gestures to the unconscious man bleeding out on his floor again. “I appreciate the concern, I really do but- it's no. I will handle it from here.”

“Matt-”

“Kid.” Matthew seethed to miles. “What the hell did I just say?”

“...No.”

“Then it's no. This is my mess, I can handle it okay?”

Throughout the entire time, Peter's grip on the counter he was leaning on grew tighter, until his knuckles were white as the snow itself. Every word from both of them were pins to his back. And soon we’re growing to be too much.

“Okay you know what, Matt?” He finally interrupted. “It is your problem. And if you don’t want help then we don’t have to give it to you. We really don’t.” He stopped, as if he was finished. Which he wasn’t. “If you wanna find your own way to hide those ears and tail of you’d then be our guest, but we aren’t gonna be wasting more time, okay?”

Miles looked at his mentor with a concerned look. “Peter-”

“Miles, if he wants to do this shit on his own then fine. But you better get your shit together before tomorrow. I don’t want you causing embarrassment.”

And like that, they all left. Deadpool uses both spiders as support while the lasting effects of the bites wear away slowly. The apartment once again was eerily quiet. No longer filled with the scuffling noise from earlier. 

Yet he wasn’t feeling the satisfaction he expected. Instead it was this familiar hollow feeling. The one he knew so well as a child. The one after his father died that filled his entire life. The bitter taste left in his mouth. The taste he felt he rightfully deserved. 


	10. Elixir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gun, waxing crescent and phineas and ferb

Hours later, on a continuous three way call with team intervention, the tiny arachnid couldn’t help but bring it up once again.

“I still don’t get it.”

Wade groaned. “Ugh, kid what is there not to get?” sipping his bubble tea he managed to convince Pete to pay for him before splitting to do his studies. Oh yeah, come to old Wade, you chewy, sweet gum balls of deliciousness. “He said no. No is no, just like yes is yes and maybe is….no. I think.” his hands moving as if doing a puppet show, his voice full of chewy orbs he chewed a little too loud into the other boys ears. Maybe it was the fact that Miles still didn’t know him as much as the other two did. Maybe he's even the Watson for the audience to understand. He sure did feel like the kid was a watson, or a Dick Grayson with how many questions he asked but he’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. Neither of the three were in any way shape or form as open and knowable as he was. Morales was a spring toy, for some kid in the 80s with loving parents and undiagnosed ADHD. Murdock? He was a porcelain doll for a 1700’s white kid with scarlet fever. Nonetheless they got along rather well despite the materials they were built with. So maybe the kid was just flat out worried. Hell, if Wilson was being honest, so was he.

“But why didn’t he want our help?” tilting his head while swinging. Among the cars and people, while definitely more complicated and attention grabbing, it gave at least a bit of mercy to his sensitive stomach. “I mean, does he even know the first thing about the process?” worried was an understatement. For the year or so that he has met the devil of Hell's Kitchen, has this ever happened. Yet by how indifferent the two were about it, he couldn’t help but wonder what else has happened similarly for this to become a terrifying norm. 

“Probably not.” Peter replies. Highlighting another passage of the assigned reading given to him the other day. Tapping his foot on the floor as if the conversation was routine. 

“Then shouldn’t we go back?” the kid asks naively making the other too instinctively rub a brow in response. And you know, explain?”

“Nah.” Parker acclaims, licking his finger and turning the page. “Matthew is a big boy. He can figure it out himself.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” once again, making Wade’s posture more stiff as he sets up his accuracy international rifle atop a rooftop somewhere in the Bronx. “What if he’s-”

“He won’t.” Wade snapped, growing tired of his back and forth. He loved the kid, sure, who wouldn’t? He’s full of energy, he's funny, small, sticky and flexible! He's like baby Peter but less of a nerd. 

“How do you know that?”

“Because he won’t.” the merc grunts, putting his chest to the floor to get a better look at his target. The college student humming in agreement. “He may be a dumbass but he’s not stupid miles.” His finger fiddles with the trigger in anticipation. 

“That doesn’t make any-”

And finally, the trigger is pulled. An ear splitting bullet inserting itself into the back of

an asshole's calf. “I’ll call you two back, okay? Wadesies got things to do and people to hurt.” Beep. 

Said asshole yelped, almost falling due to the bullets impact. His two homeboys pull out their iron, pointing it in all directions with trembling hands. Their thick, brown hair sticking up on its own. Their pearly sharp fangs moving with their bold words for the shooter to reveal themselves. This slowly and steadily becoming less and less of an ordeal than red originally expected it to be. Stepping down from the fire escape. However still engulfed into the shadows. Very ominous. Very ominous indeed. So ominous he could help but ruin the moment with his big mouth, still full of bubbles. 

“Boo.”

And a symphony of bullets that all coincidentally missed him fired until both pistols clicked to their dismay. Immediately causing him to let out a chuckle. He almost feels like a bully. Like a sitcom bully. No, a cartoon one. What was that kids name? Benny? Barney? No, BUFORD. That's who he feels like. Man, when was the last time Ellie made him sit through that show? Hm, he should ask her if they could do that again. They did have some catchy tunes and-

“Who the hell are you?” ah right, he has to screw these pooch- no, terrible pun. Even for his standards. “What do you want?”

“Ooo twenty questions! I love this game!” Wade clapped his hands together softly, finally stepping out of the shadows, now with no threat of having to fish his limbs later for bullets while watching that cartoon with Ellie. He then commenced to put a finger on his chin every so cutely and innocently, power walking towards the three. The only light in the alley being from the street lights and the moon. His head then turns to said rock in the sky. “Wow lucky night for you guys. Waxing crescent.” in attempts to shift their direction towards it as well. Before plucking his fully loaded baby. His iron rock. His kablooie tool. Directing her towards the three. Both hands gripping her with care. 

“Answer one. I’m-”   
“Deadpool.” the asshole with a bullet in his calf gasped. His hands up as if he were being arrested.    
“Aw, are you a fan? I’ll get you an autograph later.” his pistol tilting dainty to the other wolves. And then back to him “Question two, word is you three dipshits pulled a certain stunt in hell's kitchen the other night.” keeping his gun pointed as he digs in his dozen in pockets for the folded up photo. Shoving the innocent printed picture of a young latino boy into all of their faces. “That’s Sonny Barros. Age ten, scrawny boy, weighs ninety five pounds and his mother is a legal citizen of the United states. Her partner? Not so much. So now it's my turn, Question three. You mutts wouldn’t happen to recognize him do you?”

They all shake their heads aggressively in disagreement. “Thought so.” Folding the photo back up and gently placing it where he extracted it. “See I didn’t either.” and on spur of the moment, a bullet wizzes by asshole number two. Enough to prick her on the cheek. “Mainly ‘cause one, shit do they love to cover up crime in New York, and second, your buddy I just shot at left the kid without a fucking face to recognize.” He begins to pace a couple of feet in front of the three. Twiddling with his baby girl back and forth, causing asshole number two to fall to her knees, profusely apologizing with promises of money and whatever the fuck else she could offer as if that’ll bring back the kids facial features. Explaining that the kid was just bait.

“Wow.” Wade cackled at the utterly pathetic scene occurring right in front of him. Grabbing her by the hair with utmost force, he invades her personal space, his hot and hasty breath being felt on her face. “You already got to my next topic.” his dear kablooie now on her stomach. “See, if I was just here because of some angry El Salvadoran Momma well, you’d already have a bullet or two in you. But, tell me girl, why am I here?”  
The woman whimpered, her lips trembling in fear. Unable to speak with how tight her jaw was. So of course, Wade twisted his dear steel gal a little bit more closer to her, the two men standing idly by, too petrified to interrupt. Shrieking, she finally gave. “We wanted to bite Daredevil…”

“Thank you~” he cooed, looking over to the other two from earlier. “Now why would you do that? Why him?”

The two men looked at him unsure if he was asking for tortuous reasons or genuine curiosity. And finally, the sole asshole who hasn’t laid victim to a bullet steps up to the plate, brows connecting. “Because we found a cure. And we wanted him to beg for it.”

“Cute!” dropping the girl purposely back where she was begging at his feet. Pointing the bullet shooter at asshole three now. 

“Give it.”


	11. Son of Cruelty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosary

The next day, Matthew woke up mid day. surrounded by his own fur once more, his ears twitching as he unsticks his sweaty head from his pillow. Dusting off the excess hair on his legs and chest. Picking up his sheets that are scattered around his room once again. Sighing a bit miffed. Knowing how late it has gotten. Knowing it has been three days since he has stayed home. Knowing that both of his coworkers are not happy with that. Knowing that he even pushed the kids and wade away. Oh God, Wade- he- Yeah, you did that. Multiple times. So many times he collapsed on your fucking floor. And you didn’t even apologize. Not once. 

The epiphany hits him like a firetruck, sitting on his bed with his hands applied to his face, ignoring his growing want to rid his bed and sheets of the shedding he could never seem to just turn a blind eye to. Instead he just hunched further into his hands. Recalling the distinct taste of blood Wade had. The tough outer skin makes it a struggle to truly dig into. Yet he didn’t mind that. In fact, he didn’t mind much of it at all actually. But that's what created the pit in his stomach. That digestion of his rabid, wild but actively conscious actions. This pit is full of regret and intense shame. So he does what he believes will help.

He brushes his sharp canines, brushes his thick hair, and even tail, heats up leftovers and picks out what he believes is appropriate to wear for the gathering tonight. And finally, he grabs his rosemary and prays. Rubbing the beads as he mutters to himself. Number one, Apostles Creed. You drove everyone away. Number two, Our Father. You are now alone. Number three, Glory Be Thy Father. They will not forgive you. You have caused them pain. Number two, Our Father. You deserve every moment of this. Number three, Ten Hail Marys. One, you are not worthy of trust. Two, three and four. You are a monster. Five, six, seven. Happy now? Eight, nine, ten. It was bound to happen. No one stays forever, not really. Number Four, Fantama Father. And finally, Number 35, Matthew Murdock. 

**Hail, sinful beast, Son of Cruelty,**

**Hail our death, our hatred and our fear.**

**To thee do we cry, Sinful banished children of Eve; To thee do we send up our sighs, Mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.**

**Turn then, most cold assailant, Thine eyes of malevolent toward us; And after this our exile, Show unto us the rotten fruit of thy womb, Lucifer.**

**O violent, O apathetic, O sorrow, Bastard Matthew.**

**Pray for us, O holy Son of Hell.**

And with that the monstrosity rises. Setting his rosary near the plate of now cold leftovers. Pulling up the pants he chose, buttoning up the blue silk shirt Miles gifted to him last christmas. Meticulously wrapping the mid length tail around his torso before tucking in the blue button up down his belted pants. Dabbing perfume, running gel through the hair he was hoping was presentable, and positioning it to hide the slight hair growing on his helix and antihelix. Polishing his shoes. About to turn the knob, and then got a whiff of the orange chicken calling his name. Instantaneously sitting himself down, never once grabbing the plastic utensils that it came with, and instead scarves up his sad excuse for a meal with his bare hands. Tail wagging inside his shirt. But thankfully halted itself. As the styrofoam tray contained nothing else. Matthew decided not to take note of it. 


	12. Restlessness Before The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's coming

Miles came to the event early. As was accustomed for his father to, dragging everyone from his own wife to his own elementary schooler daughter with him. Thirty minutes early, on the dot. Not a moment less, not a moment earlier. So, per usual, Jefferson busied himself unstacking chairs conversing with Jameson, laughing and talking shop as if they went back. Which Miles can assure you, they did not. His little sister occupied playing on his phone, and his mother helped Aunt May organize the refreshments. So of course, he conversed with Parker, hoping that maybe, he alone could calm the goosebumps crawling up and down his arms. Doing his damndest to avoid any topic relating to Double D, a pit growing in stomach as well now. 

Sadly, being early made everything slow, making the gathering less joyful than he was imagining. As people came and went, the number of people still grew to a gigantic mass of people. All painfully adult like, or at least older teen like, Subconsciously leaving Miles to hide behind Peter for his own peace of mind, as he kept his eyes glued to the door. Waiting for the brunnette to make this a tad bit more bearable with terrible jokes and caring silence when Morales rambled on about whatever new anime he was into at the time. And finally, the door swung open, to reveal Foggy Nelson and even Karen Page! But….

“Where’s Matt…?” the kid asked, whispering softly into Peter's ear.

The two coworkers hugged Jameson, politely declining drinks he offered. Their mouths conversing amongst the white noise. Like something was certainly missing from this scene. Something warm. Something comforting. Something only a select few would only notice once they shook hands with him at least once. 

“Hell if I know, kid.” his mentor finally admitted, his eyes scanning the perimeter, only just now feeling the rising heart beat his mentee was describing earlier. Unsure as to what or where the threat was coming from. 

“Did you and your folks have chinese recently?”

Miles gave him an odd look. “No…? Not really-”

Instead of politely waiting for him to finish, he rose from his seat, not even hesitating as he threw the door open, revealing Murdock behind it. Looking almost in awe at the sudden movement yet lack of a welcome or anything of the sort. Before Peter could even sit himself back down Miles zipped out of his seat, wrapping himself tightly around the lawyer's legs. Causing him to stumble a couple of steps back due to the amount of strength the kid at his disposal. He sighs, patting him on the head in pity. 

“Hey kid.”

“I was so worried you weren’t going to come.”

“Yeah.” He inhales strongly, turning his head both sides of the hall. Peter on the right, Karen and Foggy on the left. He shouldn’t be here. “Me too.”

While certainly a bit puzzled, the middle schooler grabs him by the hand, tugging softly to communicate his attention once more. “Come, you can sit with me and my folks!” He cheered, not giving him much else of a choice. “It’s about to start!”

Before the lawyer of Hell’s Kitchen could even begin to ask what exactly is about to start, the lights in the hall dimmen themselves, crowd of coworker and loved ones muffling until it is just the proud chuckling of Jameson and tense breathing from Peter on the small stage in front of the filled tables down below. A fancy projector casting a collage of photos. While Matt couldn’t see it, Miles filled him in, whispering in his ear every little detail. Making him grin at the way he was describing everything. His tail once again, fighting within the restraints of his shirt. 

“And the left photo is-”

Matthew grunts, gripping the table awkwardly, “Uh-huh, yeah, I got it kid.”

Miles was a smart boy, and obviously did not buy that. “You...need any help?”

“Nope.” the forsworn, the sweat running down his forehead with the extreme amount of effort he was putting into not revealing himself. “‘M fine.”

Miles then opened his mouth once more, but unfortunately was interrupted by the ear splitting voice on the microphone. Good ol’ JJJ himself. Introducing himself and the nervous college student. Followed by applause and cheering from those who knew him personally. Seeing him up there, fumbling with his pockets because where exactly he put his index cards slipped his mind made both dismiss the fact that this kid got the literal shit beaten out of him at least three times out of the seven day week. Not to mention he alone had enough strength to turn the man on stage with him into a foldable chair. Both even disregarded the many lovers he also had, men and women both never seeming to get enough of him. Yet here he was, stumbling and stuttering all throughout his quick thank you to those who managed to come. He was so little, so petite. 

“So uh, yeah, Thanks for uh, you know, coming. Because like, you didn’t have to. And it shows that you guys care so, thanks.” He freezes, accidentally making eye contact with the hundreds of people who managed to come. “Oh, I’m done talking.” he sheepishly peeps, handing the mic back to Jonah, hoping the amount of sweat he got on it wasn’t enough to be entirely grossed out about.

“How about him, huh?” Jonas exclaims, wrapping a hairy yet caring arm around him, squishing him closer to him. “The guy can take one hundred pictures of the masked menace, has stage fright!” the audience chuckles in agreement. 

“Please give it up for Peter Parker, a real example of a true hero.” he loosened his grip on the poor kid, smiling widely with pride. “Living proof that heros don’t wear spandex, capes or horns. They are people like Parker.” and thus arose applause from the unsuspecting crowd. Including Miles and his family, who clapped along without yet acknowledging the agony the outlier at the table was trying to keep on the down low. But his face was red, drenched in sweat, his jaw clenching in place. The desperate gripping at the table made Jefferson raise an eyebrow. Tapping gently at the lawyer's hands.

Matthew flinches, and then takes a deep breath, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “Yes?”

“Are you alright, Murdock? You’re lookin’ a little pale there.” he phrased lightly, trying not to mention the low, rumbling noise he was also making. Nor did he think to draw attention to how hot and wet his hands were. “Are you sick?”

Matthew nervously chuckled, exhaling sharply. “No, nope.” He smiles forcefully. Shifting his posture, crossing both legs and arms. “I’m great, what makes you say that?”

God. Why does his son always gotta attach himself to the weirdos? “You’re sweating a lot, for one.”

“Well, it is hot in here.” he grins, laughing at what Jefferson guessed was a joke he cracked. His leg bumping up and down.

“Right…”

And once more, the commanding, groggily voice grabs the audience’s attention. “But while we all should be proud of Peter, there is another reason as to why we are celebrating.”

Jefferson's face then turns into a soft beam, “That’s my cue, I’ll be right back.” He whispers, pecking his wife’s face. Leaving his son to pick up where he left off with Matthew. 


	13. Cyclone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in the eye of a hurricane, there is Matt Murdock

“Just breathe in and out-”

“Why is your father joining them on stage?” he interjects, panting like a dog, grabbing his glass of water and proceeding to chug it all down.    
“Uh, I don’t know.”

Murdock wiped his mouth. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“He said it was a surprise!”

Riled, he rises from the table. “I’m going to refill this.” he seethes, not even bothering to push in his chair, beginning to march to the dispensers.

“Please welcome an old friend of mine, and a fellow hero in blue, Jefferson Davis.” the audience clap as he waves to them with a warm grin on, standing by on the free side of the news man. Peter's eyes widening in puzzlement. 

“Jay, you didn’t tell me about-”

“I got it handled, kid.”

Turns out this wasn’t a party. Or a celebration for Peter. Not really. It was a call to action. Using the poor kid as a tool. An appetizer. Before revealing the actual meal. The real, ugly and frightening truth as to why they are all here, in this moment. The harmless collage disappears, and instead is replaced by another collage. Displaying each of them. Deadpool, Spider-man, Spider-man junior, and of course Daredevil. And a collective bunch of mumbling was heard throughout the entire room. Those claiming this was in poor taste. Others unsure it was real, and the few who were in support.

Ah, apologies. I haven’t even said what exactly they are looking at yet, have I?

“We call it the Team Red Rupture Initiative.” The police officer announces. The slideshow shifting to the next slide. Revealing Phase One of the plan. “We have used Peter’s pictures and linked them back to locations in New york. But of course, this just gave us an idea of where Spider-Man frequents, but not much of a clear idea of where the other two would be when not together.”

The two men continued, as Parker stood there idly, unaware if it was appropriate to interrupt. Miles sat in his seat, ignoring the sweat coming from his hands, and desperately trying to get every word in, before giving up and recording it after stealing his own phone back from his sister. Matthew on the other hand, was still pouring water into his cup. In spite of the fact that it could no longer hold any more liquids and was now getting on his shoe. As this was now the least of his problems.

“Phase two will consist of using Peter to gather more photos of Deadpool, seeing as he shows up any time instead of the latter.”

The brunette's hair begins to stick on end, his grip on the glass tightening.

“And with Spidey Junior no longer having either men on his side….”

It begins to crack. Yet he doesn’t stop. He is merciless to the poor glass. 

“Daredevil will then be alone, with no friends to back him up. All we need to do by phase four is-”

And finally. The glass explodes. The shards flying into his hand and onto the floor. And in an instant the man can hear at least a hundred heads turn his way. And instead of apologizing like a sensible adult would, he takes advantage of the moment.  
“Hi, local lawyer here.” he introduces, like an utter fool. “You wouldn’t mind if I asked a couple of questions, would you?”

“Actually we do-”

“Great, great.” the grins, picking out the shards from his hands. Taking a couple of steps closer to the men. The eyes following him unaware of how exactly this’ll end. And if Matt was more of an honest man he’d admit that they’re in the same boat in the regard. But he isn’t so, he doesn’t say that. “I just wanted to ask if you asked Peter about this beforehand.”

The audience mumbles, Peter cracks his knuckles in embarrassment. Foggy And Karen talking amongst themselves in fear for whatever game he was pulling.  
“That's irrelevant.” Jay answers, putting his arms on his shoulders in attempts to lighten the mood. “Right, Pete? You don’t mind, do you?

“So we agree that you failed to tell Mr.Parker.” Matthew adds, applying pressure to his injured hand. “Meaning you planned all of this, without asking permission from the owner of these photos?” he pauses for dramatic effect. “Wow.”

Jameson’s face grows red, his fists balling at the man's words. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember anyone asking some lawyers two cents on this.”

“You didn’t need to, Mr.Jameson.” Matthew smiles, almost amused at the man's growing frustration. “I mean, do you really think this idiotic plan of yours will actually work? That it is full proof?”

Jefferson's eyebrows lower. “That’s enough, Murdock.”

“No!” he barks. Making the audience's heart beats rise a little in tempo. “It won’t work and I’ll tell you why.” 

“Matt please shut up.” Peter begs through his teeth.  
“See the thing is, Daredevil has always been alone.” he laughs forcefully. “He’s never had any friends, not really.” The hundred of people still staring at him grow weary, muttering to one another, afraid for his mental health. “And he will never have friends. Because he isn’t human like you guys are.”

He takes a shaky breath. His chest feels so tight as if he can faint. The floor is growing gooey and wobbly under him. His heart is ready to burst out of him, Yet he continues. “No, he’s a beast. He’s a living nightmare.” he runs a hand through his sweat drenched hair. “Arrest him, but he’ll always be there. Just replaced by another monster.”

“You can’t stop them, you can’t stop Daredevil. You can try, but you will fail.”


	14. The hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rain

The entire room was still. Indecisive as to how to move forward from such a bold claim. Until finally Both Foggy and Miles rise from their seats, innocently heading towards the man. The low rumbling from him beginning to rise once more. “Stay there.” he demanded. And for a second they did, looking at each other with a worriful eye. And proceeded forward. “I SAID STAY.” he cried, walking backwards, bumping into a table. Using it as a barrier between the two.

“Matt, get down.” Foggy sighed. “Look at what you’re doing.”

“I Can’t.” he exhales rapidly, not sure what he’ll do if they get any closer. “Stay there, please.”

Miles ignores his plea, climbing atop the table, his arms stretched out, ready for a hug. The sudden movement making Matthew run to the edge of the table, “Miles-”

He is so close the man could smell him. The man could taste him. The wolf could devour him. The man could devour both of them- no, all of them. Yeah, a large feast, a meal for himself. All for him. The boy is so near now that his nostrils are now filled with nothing else but his scent. So much so it makes his tail wag, still wanting more from the food he had earlier. So much he doesn’t know what else he’ll do. So much that he pushes the kid back, his hand running through his arm like scissors to paper. The aroma of fresh, young blood now fills everyone else’s nostrils too. Miles looks at his arm stunned, pupils shrinking, and trembling with the rest of his body.

“Matt-”

“I said stay away.” 

He could smell the salt from the boy's tears begin to rise. As expected. He wasn’t lying. He’s a beast, he is a freak beyond nature. He is the return of Frankenstein's monster. He is cursed to live alone. And Miles isn’t watson. He’s William. Poor William who happened to stand too close to something he shouldn’t have. Because he grew closer again. In spite of his naive consistency, something worse began to happen. Something expected however. 

His teeth elongated, his nails turning into weapons. Instantaneously, Peter took action aiming at the lights with his web shooters. To at least give him some time to escape. As promptly after the people cried and screamed in fear, unaware as to what caused the sudden blackout. A couple minutes of murmuring darkness and then there was a sudden breach of light that entered from the outside, from someone entering and leaving as quick as a rabbit. Followed by murmuring of barks. Said barking came from yours truly, drooling after Foggy's ass who was sprinting as fast as he could while the arachnid did his best to explain why couldn’t they just donate the pooch to an animal center.

“You know, that makes a lot of sense.”

“Yeah, wait, what?”  
“What?” Foggy whispered, pulling the kid with him behind a dumpster. Hoping the rain alone could throw off their scents to his friend. “You’re not confused, with anything I just said?”

The wolf stumbled into the same alley, yet has not caught onto them yet, thank jesus. “No of course not.”  
“Why??” Miles softly asked, being painfully aware of how loud he was as the dog followed his snout. “Because it makes sense?” Matt's head then lifts up from the ground. His ears are sharp as ever. “Shit.” Nelson states, closing his eyes, expecting to be lunch meat. Only to be half way up the building. Too stunned and busy staring down at the wet dog down below. Before he was hoisted on the rooftop by a literal middle schooler, who didn’t even manage to break a sweat. Making the poor man eyes too wide for his own good.   
“How- how-”  
Miles shushed him, seeming to dial a friend on his phone. “I think he can still reach the fire escape.” 

There was only one ring, thank fucking god. “Yello?” Wilson hummed, taking a long sip from another drink of bubble tea as the kid rambled on, explaining the situation.

He chews on the dozen bubbles now in his mouth. “I see.”

“So will you come?”

“Nah.”

“WHAT?”

“Joking. I’m joking kid. I’m on my way.”

“Thank you-” Beep.

The mutt was indeed able to climb the fire escape, still hot on the twos trail. But despite Foggy's screams of terror, Miles kept a level head, directing him towards the mercenary. Even mocking him a little, calling him Fido, Bingo, Micheal, the whole damn thing. Just to keep his anger supply to last and not eat a random baby instead. 

“What the hell is taking you so long?”

Wade was breathing heavy and quickly, as if in pain. “Don’t worry about it.”

“We can’t keep running forever.”

“I know that, kid.” his breathing getting worse, followed by long grunts of agony.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

No response. Just odd cutting noises.   
“Wade?”

And then his peripheral vision caught the bastard on a rooftop, still screaming.

Foggy squinted. “Is he…?”

“Yes, yes he is.” Miles answers. He is cutting off his own hand. Giving up, they head towards the idiot, the animal once again hot on their tail as they climb up the damp rooftop. Wade's bloody hand waiting for Matt on the floor. Predictably, Miles storms toward the other adult, ready to give him a piece of his mind. Only to be hushed by said man. Directing the young teens attention to the curious yet hungry Matt Murdock, sniffing skeptical at the hand, before proceeding to sink his teeth , shaking it about as if it were a chew toy. 

“I still don’t-” ah, hushed once again.  
The wolf's eyes grow droopy, his stance weak and tired. Yet still growled and teeth still in the hand. Until finally, he fell limb on the wet rooftop.


	15. Life goes on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not a dream, murdock. God, would you stop being a depressed douchebag for one second?

Bedsheets. Scratchy, itchy, not his. Yet the smell is still familiar. But there is little to no hair. Nothing on the floor from what he could see, as if it was all a dream. The smell of eggs not helping him convince otherwise. Not to mention the harmless chitter chatter from his friends he has wronged in the other room. And there it was. The slap of reality he needed but rather did not want. The shuffling. The tail. That damned wagging tail. However it seemed to shrunk. Odd. But not anywhere near as comforting as he hoped. But his stomach growled, begging for food. For actual food. Not just leftovers and his friends. 

There they were. The three that went to check on him. The three that knew when to back off and when to intervene, his friends, his family. His loved ones. Maybe he wasn’t alone as he thought.

“You just gonna stand there?” Peter grinned. “Or are you gonna eat?”

Yes, he was just gonna stand there. “The party?” he weakly asks.

“Don’t worry, you were right, I was able to deny their request.”

“Wade?” he stuttered, beginning to sway in place nervously. 

“Yes~?”

“You’re okay?” 

Wilson puts a hand to his face, cooing. “Did you really think you were able to hurt me?” Come on, Red.”

“Right.”

“It was a dick move though.” Wade adds bluntly.

“‘M sorry.” the three hum in collective silence. “And Miles?”

Said middle schooler has his mouth full of pancakes, waving sweetly with his syrup stained fork. “He’s all stitched up.” Peter answers for him.

The morning felt too good. Too nice, too fake and soft. It wasn’t right, It must be a drea-”

“Jesus christ.” Wade sighs, his mouth full of sausage. “It’s not a damn dream, you depressed bitch.” Proceeding to drown his sausage with orange juice. “People can just care and forgive, you know. That's possible.”

“But-”

“Matt.” Miles furiously interrupted. “Shut up and eat some pancakes with us.” his orders ever so seriously. “You can enjoy yourself. You’re allowed to.”

“...My tail?” he timidly asked. 

“Oh right!” Wade chimed in, mouth full of various other foods. “That was me, I pulled a couple of strings.” He proudly states, finally swallowing said food. “Laced it and all that, I was hopin’ it was a permanent cure but what can ya do?”

Embarrassingly enough he was right. So painfully right. He was so preoccupied fixating on mistakes no one will remember in the long run he forgot that time moves forward with or without him. He isn’t evil, he isn’t a beast, or Frankenstien’s monsters either. He was Matt Murdock. And he was trying his best. 

So no, he won’t just stand there. He will have breakfast. And take things as he goes.

Because sometimes that is all you can do.


End file.
